


New Year's Eve

by ami_ven



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Community: writerverse, Drabble Collection, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-06-21
Packaged: 2018-02-05 14:07:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1821160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ami_ven/pseuds/ami_ven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Each of the Avengers gets ready for their New Year’s party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Year's Eve

**Author's Note:**

> written for LJ community "writerverse" 24-hour challenge prompt "at the last minute"

**Tony**

“ _Sir_ ,” said JARVIS’s voice from somewhere above Tony’s workshop. “ _You insisted that I remind you in sufficient time to dress before the event._ ”

“I still have time, J,” Tony protested, flipping up his welding visor. He examined his work for a moment, then flipped it back down. “Remind me later.”

“ _Sir, I took the liberty of including the time it will take to remove that volume of lubricating grease. Miss Potts was quite adamant that you should look your best._ ”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Tony, but he shut down his blowtorch. “J, prep the music. We’ll enter in style.”

“ _Indeed, Sir._ ”

**Steve**

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” said Steve, to the older woman holding the other side of the large photo album. “Thank you again for sharing your stories, but I really must be going.”

“Of course, of course,” she said, smiling as brightly as when she’d first seen him. He had stopped to help her carry some groceries, but it turned out that she’d been one of Captain America’s USO girls during the war, and she’d asked him up for some tea. “You’ve brought back some good memories, captain. Those were the days, weren’t they?”

He smiled. “These days are pretty swell, too.”

**Natasha**

It was so much easier to get dressed for a job than it was to get dressed at herself. The basic components were the same— dress, stockings, shoes, jewelry, makeup— but choosing a look _for herself_ , without any consideration of who else might see it, only that she look and feel her best, was a little overwhelming.

Natasha stood in front of the mirror, smoothing the champagne-and-cream brocade of her skirt. It was more modest than her undercover personas wore, less blatantly seductive, and she loved it.

The clock chimed, softly, and she turned from the mirror without another look.

**Bruce**

With a soft sigh of frustration, Bruce pulled the lumpy, uneven knot from his tie and started it again. He’d never had this sort of problem while he was on the run. Bad food, dangerous travel, the US Army on his tail, sure, but he’d never had to suffer the indignity of a badly-knotted bowtie.

He went slower this time, fingers sliding over the silk again. If he _was_ forced to dress up, Bruce thought, he ought to do it properly.

He finished the tie with a flourish— then another sigh. It was hopeless.

Or, maybe, he just needed help.

**Jane**

The alarm on her computer beeped loudly and Jane started, nearly knocking over the circuit board she had been working on. She whirled around the lab, shutting down machines and securing experiments. 

Her phone beeped before she was halfway back to her room— thankfully, just downstairs from her lab in Stark Tower— and she was even more thankful that she’d thought to lay out her dress the night before. Jane was just putting in her earrings when she realized their apartment was only half-occupied. 

“Thor?” she called, as though he might be hiding somewhere. “Thor, we’re going to be late...”

**Thor**

“Yes, my love?” said Thor, coming into their apartment. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes!” said Jane. “Why aren’t you dressed? We have to leave in fifteen minutes!”

He looked down at his battle armor. “I am clothed, Jane. Our good captain assured me that military dress is suitable for most Midgardian celebrations.”

“Well, sure,” said Jane. “Dress uniforms are… but that’s not the point. This is black tie event, so you have to wear the tux.”

“The costume delivered by Lady Pepper? It does not seem sturdy enough for battle.”

“It’s not for battle, it’s for fancy parties. Now, hurry up.”

**Clint**

He looked at the mirror and scowled. How was it that Natasha, with her curve-clinging dresses still found places for a dozen weapons, but he couldn’t fit more than a few knives in this monkey suit?

And he wasn’t even that good with knives.

Still… he didn’t look too bad. In fact, he looked pretty darn good, if he did say so himself. Clint’s scowl slid into a smile. In fact, he would look like nearly everyone else— he could probably sneak in and out of this shindig a dozen times without anybody even suspecting. 

That sounded like a plan.

**Darcy**

She pressed her lips together, making sure her cherry-red lipstick was even, when there was a knock on the door. The only thing Darcy wasn’t wearing were her shoes, so she called, “Come in!”

The door cracked open, and Bruce peered around it. “Darcy, do you think you could—?” He paused, staring for a moment, then said, “Sorry, sorry. You just… you look absolutely stunning, Darcy.”

To her surprise, she felt herself blushing. “Thanks. You’re looking pretty dashing yourself.”

“Except for this tie,” Bruce said, holding it out.

Darcy took it, and stepped very close to him. “My pleasure.”

**Coulson**

He’d originally gotten the tuxedo, specially tailored, for an undercover mission, but it had all gone south before he’d had a chance to wear it. Still, it fit him well after all this time, and Coulson straightened his tie one last time before leaving his room.

Absently, his hand went to his ear, and he was surprised to find it bare— he was off duty tonight, at least as an agent. This _was_ duty, though, in a way, but a personal one. Because if this went the way things usually did when the Avengers were in public, they’d need supervision.

**Pepper**

“Those go over there, please,” she said, “And those out on the balcony.”

Pepper stood to one side of the room, watching everything come together. So far, things were going well, and she was determined to enjoy the order and precision before the guests of honor arrived.

Oddly, she missed this. She loved being CEO, _so_ much more efficient to just do things herself, instead of tracking Tony down to get a decision. But she didn’t have as much time for the details, anymore, when she needed to stay focused on the big picture.

“And the flowers on each table!”

THE END


End file.
